Eventide Twilight Rewritten
by GentleOpheliac
Summary: Bella returns to her hometown of Forks, Washington after three long years spent living with her mother. Once she arrives, she is immediately forced to make attempts at reconciling with her dark past, all while dealing with the reality of high school drama, mysterious new acquaintances, and a string of murders that keep getting closer and closer to home. J/B, X-Posted on AO3.


**Chapter I.**

_all we do is drive_

_all we do is think about the feelings_

_that we hide_

_Halsey | Drive_

The average flight from Phoenix, Arizona to Port Angeles, Washington is approximately three and a half hours long. That's two-hundred and ten minutes to come to terms with the terrible, life-altering mistake that was boarding that aircraft in the first place.

It was freezing inside the plane's main cabin, and the jacket I was wearing didn't do much in the way of keeping my flimsy body warm. I was shocked that the sound of my teeth chattering hadn't awoken the sleeping old woman next to me: She had spent at least twenty minutes telling me about her grandchildren in New Jersey, so it had been a huge relief when she drifted off about halfway through our flight. For this reason, I hadn't bothered to move away when her grey head shifted to rest on my shoulder.

_**Stupid. **_

I slid the cover on the window up a few inches, watching as the aircraft broke through the dense layer of clouds that always seemed to hover over the Olympic Peninsula. As a child, I had never really noticed how gloomy it actually was; I found my very own bits of sunshine at the bottom of a coffee mug, or nestled in between the pages of my favorite novels. However, as the plane drew closer and closer to the ground, I was confronted with the absolute darkness of the city that I had left in my wake almost four years ago.

_**Turn around, stupid. **_

I could, in part, blame this decision on my beloved mother, who had recently been swept off her feet by a man called Phil Dwyer. Within six months of their initial meeting, they were tying the knot on a beach in California, and he was begging her to join him on the road to pursue his blossoming career as a minor-league baseball player. Of course, this was what inevitably ended me up on this plane en route to my father's home in Forks.

To her credit, Renee absolutely hounded me with questions, asking at least a dozen times if this was what I _really _wanted. Each time I heard the inquiry leave her lips, I forced myself to nod without saying a word. Even my hairbrained mom could sniff out my poorly-worded lies in an instant.

_**Stupidstupidstupid.**_

A large part of me knew that I was a fool for being so anxious. My father had been dropping hints for months; he _wanted _me to return to Forks. To return _home. _He called at least once a month just to tell me that everyone missed me, and that whenever I was ready, there was a heaping plate of berry cobbler with my name on it at the diner.

It was no mystery to me that Charlie blamed himself for my leaving Forks so suddenly at the end of middle school. However, I took great comfort in the knowledge that my father was one of the most non-confrontational humans on the planet: He would wonder constantly about the reasons behind my decision, no doubt trying to piece together exactly why his anxious homebody of a daughter had suddenly decided to run hundreds of miles away from home, but he would never bring it up to my face.

Next to me, the old woman stirred. In the midst of my nervous squirming, I had accidentally woken her. I went limp against the window and snapped one eye shut, pretending to be fast asleep myself. I was far too anxious to endure any more one-sided chatter.

I wondered if I was fooling her. Could she hear my heart hammering in my chest? Could she smell the fear seeping out of my pores? I dug my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palm and squeezed my eyes shut. Luckily, I was positioned close to the exit. As soon as the plane landed, I would do what I was best at and make a run for it.

_**Turn around, stupid. **_

—

I spotted Charlie crouched by the escalator, half-waving a large cardboard sign at no one in particular. Even from a distance, I could make out the words '**WELCOME HOME, BELLS**' written in large, crooked script. The gesture wasn't enough to still my hummingbird heartbeat, but I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

Using every ounce of courage within me, I managed to call out, "hey, dad."

Charlie perked up at the sound of my voice, his face splitting into a massive grin. Within seconds, he was rushing towards me, his sign long forgotten.

When he reached me, he pulled into his arms and tucked my head under his chin. In turn, I wrapped my shaky noodle arms around him and squeezed tightly, allowing myself to abandon all fear and anxiety for a few blissful moments.

"I missed you, kid," he whispered into my hair. He was so quiet, I almost didn't hear him.

"Missed you too, dad. Thanks for the sign." I pulled away, smiling bashfully.

"I didn't want you to get lost in the airport," he chuckled, looking away bashfully. I noticed that his cheeks were tinged pink as he took my suitcase from me, swinging it over his shoulder almost effortlessly. In turn, I quickly occupied myself by reaching down to tie my already helplessly knotted shoelaces. Neither of us had ever been very good with physical intimacy.

When we reached Charlie's cruiser, he opened the passenger door for me before throwing my bag in the back seat. "Hope you don't mind, I invited the Blacks over for dinner. Well… Billy and Jake, that is. The girls haven't been around much." His tone was a little bitter towards the end of that sentence, but I didn't ask. My tongue had turned to sandpaper in my mouth.

_**Run away. Turn around and run away.**_

He sensed my hesitation and continued, tripping over his words ever so slightly. "You don't have to worry about cooking dinner or anything, Bells. Billy is bringing ribs and I have leftovers in the fridge. I hope… that's okay, right?"

The knot in my stomach tightened. I felt nauseous. Sign or no sign, I was hopelessly lost.

_**Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid.**_

Charlie was waiting for an answer, so I forced myself to nod and smile. "Sounds good, dad."

He must have bought my fake enthusiasm, because he appeared to visibly relax. The lines on his forehead smoothed over, and a small smile found its way to his aging face.

I'd used to feel bad about lying to my father. Now, it felt like mercy. I'd already put him through too much.

_**All you ever do is run away. **_

The drive home was spent in silence, but I basked in it as though it was a patch of sunlight. Charlie and I were alike in that neither of us were talkers; we stumbled our way through conversations as though each word was an elaborate tongue-twister that we could never get quite right. My mother had always found it weird, insisting that I must be depressed from living in the cloudy, gloomy vortex that was Forks; I don't think she was ever able to come to terms with the fact that I was all of Charlie and none of her.

When we arrived at my father's house, he helped me carry my bag upstairs where the rest of my stuff was waiting in boxes. I couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of my childhood bedroom; the fairy lights that I had carefully strung around the room were still tacked in place, and my purple duvet looked warm and inviting after the day's events. Even my old, dusty bookshelves called to me like old friends in need of a sturdy hug.

Behind me, Charlie was shifting from one foot to the other. "Are you sure you're okay with company tonight?"

_**Run away. Get out of here, stupid.**_

I resisted the urge to shake my head no, to beg him to call off dinner with Billy and Jacob. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay." Charlie turned to go, but he paused when he reached the stairs and looked back at me. "It's good to see you, Bells."

"You too, dad."

"I missed you too, kid," he replied, a small blush coloring his cheeks. And with that, he turned on his heels and wandered down the stairs. My father never hovered.

After unpacking each of the five medium-sized boxes containing my things, I got to work reorganizing my room. Cleaning had always been cathartic for me, and if I was to face my demons head on, I was determined to do it with a clear head. It took me almost thirty minutes, but I managed to unpack and sort through my entire wardrobe: I hid away most of the items that my mother had purchased for me, opting instead to fill my dresser drawers with my usual jeans, cozy t-shirts, and sweaters. I also arranged my shoes, placing my favorite pair of sneakers at the front of my modest collection.

I was just about to start moving a basket of toiletries into the bathroom when I heard a commotion downstairs. Charlie was welcoming Billy and Jacob Black inside our house.

_**Run away. Runrunrunrunrunrun. **_

I wondered briefly if it was impossible to feign illness. I wasn't ready to see them. I didn't know if I would _ever _be ready to see them again. Especially Jacob.

_**Stupid. **_

But I had to do this for Charlie's sake. He deserved a normal kid, the kind that didn't hyperventilate over the smallest of things. The kind that wouldn't leave him for four years with no explanation. The kind that would shoulder her own blame instead of leaving it for him to carry.

_**All you ever do is run away. **_

If I couldn't be the daughter that Charlie deserved, I would just have to pretend with all of my might.

I zipped up my hoodie and crept downstairs towards the voices. My goal was to do something resembling a graceful entrance, but I missed the third step from the bottom, lost my footing, and landed at the feet of none other than Jacob Black.

_**Get up and run. **_

I lay in shock for a few seconds before peering up at him, my face burning. This was not the way I wanted to reintroduce myself to my childhood best friend.

_**GET UP AND RUN. **_

"You're clumsy as ever, I see," he chuckled.

I was mute, unable to do so much as open my mouth. He just chuckled and offered me a hand. I grabbed it hesitantly, not wanting to risk another embarrassing faceplant.

"Are you alright there, Bella?" Billy Black was sitting in a wheelchair next to my father, and he had a humongous grin plastered across his face.

**RunrunrunrunRUN.**

Grief pooled in my chest, nearly bringing me to my knees. Charlie had informed me that Billy's health had taken a turn for the worse in the months after _it _happened. He had lost mobility in the lower half of his body, forcing him to rely on a wheelchair. I _knew _this, but somehow seeing him in front of me filled me with intangible sorrow.

He must have sensed my emotional turmoil, because he wheeled forward, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder ever so gently. I leaned in to give him a hug, and he patted my back. I was almost soothed.

"We have missed you, Bella. Especially Jake, here," he nodded to his son, who flashed me a sheepish grin.

"I've missed you guys too," I said softly. And I _truly _had.

"Do you think you'll be sticking around?" His tone was gentle.

I was silent for a moment. Behind me, I felt Charlie stiffen. He was waiting for an answer as well.

_**All you ever do is run away. You're pathetic. **_

"Yeah," I responded lamely.

I heard Charlie exhale, and I kicked myself internally.

_**Pathetic. **_

We flocked to Charlie's small, homey dining room, and Jacob helped situate Billy while my dad and I re-heated some mac and cheese to go with the ribs that the Blacks had brought. To my surprise, Charlie revealed that he had sautéed some green beans as well.

"Your old man really found his way around the kitchen after you left, Bella," Billy sighed contentedly. "He had some help of course. Old Harry Clearwater and I showed him how it's done."

Charlie only smiled and rolled his eyes.

Billy Black was famous for bringing conversation to what would have usually been a quiet occasion. I half-listened, pressing my fingernails into my palm with one hand while poking at my meal with the other.

Knowing that Charlie would be concerned with my lack of appetite, I made a show of forcing food down my throat while simultaneously spreading my food around my plate like a snotty child trying to fool her way out of eating her peas. He bought it, assuming that I was enthusiastic about my food as I looked. I scraped the rest of it into a Tupperware while everyone else rinsed off their plates in the sink.

_**Failure. **_

After they had cleaned up, Charlie helped Billy into his chair and the two of them wandered outside to the front porch, leaving me and Jacob by ourselves.

"So, how was Phoenix?" A small smile played across his features.

"Hot," I rasped out. "And dry."

He nodded, and looked down at his shoes. I had made things awkward, as per usual. However, I took this failure as a chance to really look at him for the first time in years: He towered over me now, all traces of baby fat gone from his face and broad arms. He had chopped off several inches of what used to be waist length hair; the inky black, pin-straight tendrils now brushed just past his collarbone. His eyes were the same as when he was a child, though; his chocolate eyes and his ever-present dimples reminded me of a time that I wasn't sure I wanted to remember forever or forget as soon as possible.

_**All you ever do is run away. Failure. **_

"Are you okay, Bella?" He asked, bringing me out of my stupor.

I nodded robotically, shrugging my shoulders.

_**Stupid.**_

Jacob opened his mouth, undoubtedly to call me out on my lie, but a commotion from outside vaporized the words on the tip of his tongue.

"Bells, Jake, come out here." Charlie called. He sounded excited, maybe even a bit manic.

I gave Jacob a weak smile before wandering outside to see what all the fuss was about.

Billy and my dad were standing outside in front of the Black's red-orange Chevy pickup, and they both wore matching grins that swallowed their faces.

"What do you think?" Charlie patted the truck, smiling sheepishly. I suddenly realized that everyone was staring at me.

"About what?" I squinted at him, confused.

"Your welcome home present." He gently

rapped the metal again for emphasis.

My eyes widened, and I pointed at the truck wordlessly. I knew my mouth was hanging open wide enough to catch flies, but I couldn't snap it shut for the life of me.

"Is this really mine?" I finally choked out.

Billy chuckled. "Sure is! Charlie bought this old beater off of me last week, Bella. Jacob here fixed it up for you."

"Oh my God," a breathless laugh escaped from my chest. "This is awesome, you guys!" For once, I didn't have to fake my enthusiasm.

Billy grinned at my father, snickering loudly. "See, I told you she'd love it. I'm down with the kids."

I turned to him. "Thank you, Billy. And Jacob," I tossed him a small smile. "And thank you, dad." I wrapped my arm around his waist, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Welcome home, Bella."

—

Since the Blacks had driven over in my new truck, I offered them a ride home so that Charlie could get some shuteye before his early shift at the station. In hindsight, I should have known that it was an awful idea, but my sense of reason was numbed by the feeling of calm that washed over me when my backside touched the battered leather driver's seat of my new truck.

It didn't last, of course. As soon as we neared the outskirts of Forks, I felt white-hot shards of panic begin to rip through my insides, causing me to double over in pain. I must have played it off okay, because neither of my companions took notice of my behavior.

_**Run.**_

Once we reached the county line, I began to hyperventilate. I rolled down the squeaky window to mask the sound of labored breathing, all the while pretending like I didn't know where I was going as I looped around the fork in the road that would have taken me straight to La Push. Jacob seemed oblivious, but I could tell at a glance that Billy had noticed my little detour. He didn't say anything about it though, and I avoided his gaze for the rest of the ride.

_**RunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunRUN**__._

By the time we pulled into Jacob's driveway, my knuckles were white from having clutched the steering wheel too hard. I stared down at my lap as Jacob helped Billy out of the truck and into his wheelchair.

"Thanks for the ride," he said sheepishly.

"No problem, anytime," I choked out. I could barely hear myself over my own thoughts; my inner monologue was wailing, begging me to speed away at one hundred miles per hour and not look back until I was sure that the ghosts were no longer behind me.

_**All you ever do is leave. **_

Billy finally spoke to me. "We'd love it if you could stop by sometime, Bella. You are always welcome here, and nothing will ever change that. Please don't forget it."

_**RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN**__. _

A lump rose in my throat, and I couldn't swallow it down no matter how hard I tried. Somehow, I found the strength to nod. "I'd better go. Thanks again for fixing this up for me. It's really awesome."

Jacob's entire face lit up. "Sure, sure, Bella. Let me know if you ever need me to look at it."

I called my thanks before slamming the door shut and taking off as fast as I possibly could without crashing my new ride.

I took the long way home again.

_**All you ever do is run away.**_


End file.
